You're Just A Hallucination
by YouLowerTheIQofTheWholeStreet
Summary: John's so used to hallucinating about Sherlock, he doesn't realize that he's back, properly... I keep thinking I'm going to finish this, then more ideas pop up. If anyone has any suggestions, leave a comment! :D Thank you for continuing to read this!
1. Chapter 1

John's used to seeing Sherlock now. 3 years in and he still sees him around, a shadow of his former self. He knows he's imagining it, and he's going more crazy as each day passes, when he should be recovering and pulling out of mourning, but it isn't possible. Sherlock will not leave, not quite, and each time John sees him it brings the memories flooding back. And all the pain, and the loss feels like a deep flesh wound being reopened. Never staying closed long enough to heal and scar. Never staying closed long enough to leave a mark, but not a hole.

Chapter 1

_John_

I saw him today. I was with Greg, the fifth time I'd seen him since it happened, when he was called in on a case, and I went with him. There was a body of a man, no older than 19 ripped, and torn like a well-loved doll. And Sherlock was there, looking over him, examining, saying nothing. That's how I knew; Sherlock would never keep quiet for longer than a few seconds unless it was necessary. Plus Greg, Donovan and Anderson kept stepping on his coat, and his face as they flittered round, trying to work out the cause of death. I was no help; I've rather lost my touch since he left me. Psychosomatic limp is back with a vengeance, too.

_Sherlock_

It isn't time yet. Well the time has been and gone, but I missed it, and to lessen the pain I'm going to have to wait, until John is ready. I can see it in his eyes, the tiny glimmer of hope that I may still be alive, and it is slowly being extinguished. And it's all my fault.

I think he saw me the other day, his eyes met mine as I was watching him enter 221B. I hadn't expected him to be here, he hadn't been back since it happened. But he was and as soon as he saw me, he shook his head, and purposely didn't look twice. He thought I was a hallucination.

I'm killing him.

_John_

It was funny, earlier, as I went to get the last of my things from 221B, I saw him again. He looked different to my usual sightings of him, more real.

Maybe this is where im getting to now, the point where I cant distinguish the dead from the living.

Not that it makes any difference to my life, anyway, I couldn't live without my images of him, so why not have more?


	2. Chapter 2

4 months later

_Sherlock _

He's got someone now, and I'm wondering whether it's worth me entering his life again or not.

Mary, she's called. Twig of a girl, but she matches John, looks right. But I need John as much as he needed me. I won't try to deny it. But he needed me. _Needed_. I tried to get him to notice me by wandering down the streets that he was walking down, but each time I did this, he shook his head and walked quicker, obviously not believing the sight before him.

I decided, one night, that it was about time to show myself to John. They were having dinner, in one of those fancy restaurants that serves 5 courses of bite sized food, then they charge you hundreds of pounds. As I walked through the double door, I saw Mary, she had an expensive gown on, too expensive, and on her left hand their lay a small diamond ring; John had obviously bought a second hand one, I could see the scratches and it was slightly too large. Even though the diamond was small it was far out of John's price range new. I pushed to the back of my mind that the woman had died from a heart attack whilst wearing that ring, and decided not to tell John.

A waiter approached me, but I couldn't take my eyes off John. It had been a while since I'd tried to let him spot my, but why the hell has he got a moustache?! That would have to come off, pronto.

Mary spotted me first, no doubt knowing who I was from either the newspapers or John.

She didn't say anything, just stared, like an idiot. But soon enough John noticed, and slowly turned his head in my direction.

'No' he whispered, as he stood up.

_John_

He's back. He's really back. More than 3 years later and he decided to show up on this night.

Once I'd stared at him for a good five minutes, I walked towards him. 'You can see him too?' I mouthed at Mary, a quick nod shot back in response.

I took a deep breath and walked towards the figure. How could I tell if this was just a dream? All my hallucinations spoke, walked as normal, how could I check if this one was different?

As Sherlock raised his arms to prepare for an embrace, I panicked, smacking him as hard as I could around the face.

He almost fell to the ground, but quickly composed himself.

'Hello, John.' He grunted, trying to stem the flow of blood that was now exiting his nose.

'Sherlock' I replied, walking towards the toilets.

_Sherlock _

As I went to follow John, Mary grabbed my arm. 'I don't think so, do you?' she frowned, pulling me out of the restaurant and shoving a tissue to my face. She tried to make light conversation, but after a few minutes of completely ignoring her, she gave up.

The funny thing was, she didn't question how I was alive.

John came out, a while later. Pale in the face, having obviously just vomited.

I backed away as he came closer, despite deserving it, not really wanting another punch in the face.

He came towards me more quickly, and pulled me into a hard hug.

I hugged back , and I felt him sniffling into my scarf.

'never fucking leave me again, Sherlock. Ever.'

I nodded at this.

'and if you're a hallucination, I'll kick your arse'

'I can promise I'm not John'


	3. Chapter 3

Life was falling back into place relatively well for John and Sherlock.

John now lived at 221A Baker Street, and although this wasn't what Sherlock had planned originally, it was suitable. For now. Mary had basically moved in, too. John kept denying it but as Sherlock saw it, she'd moved her toothbrush and her bubble bath in, and that didn't seem like a short-term proposal to him. He'd grown to hate her more, and more, originally putting it down to her being an idiot, like everyone else. But it was more than that and Sherlock couldn't put his finger on it. Each time he saw her and John embrace, he had to turn away, feeling violently sick.

Mycroft put it down to jealousy. 'You never have been one to share your toys, Sherlock' he said.

That would fit with all the symptoms, but he couldn't admit that to his elder brother, so he retorted 'how's the diet going?' and stormed out of the room.

John was acting funny, too.

_John_

I don't like sleeping, anymore. It's necessary, but I get the minimum I need and no more. It's not enjoyable, it's a pain. Mary's by my side and I'm doing my upmost to stop her from noticing. It's getting more and more difficult. She doesn't understand.

I don't like going out, socialising anymore, either. It's a task that I've deemed boring and unsuitable, I'm surprised Mary's still putting up with me. I keep hoping she'll break it off, but then I remember she's one of the only things rooting me to the ground at this point.

My Sherlock hallucinations are so real now, they terrify me.

Ever since that ordeal with Mary seeing him, I know that I had problems.

There's no other explanation. never brings him up, and why would she? He's dead. Yet more proof that Sherlock isn't living above me in 221B.

I see it from time to time, but I can see now that even my hallucinations are getting bored of me. I don't talk to anyone, and I ignore anything that tries to distract me from my silent mourning.

Mary thinks I'm just stressed.

Ha.

_Sherlock_

I don't understand John.

We go to cases together now yet he still looks at me as if he can see through me, as if he can't understand why I'm there.

I tried to talk about what happened with Jim on the roof, his only response before leaving was 'I know what happened' how does he know if I didn't tell him?

His psychosomatic limp is back, too.

I thought it would have been forgotten as it was when we first met, but apparently not. I've tried everything, I've hidden his cane a few times, but the moment john stands he leans onto whatever he can, furrowing his brow as he tries to remember where he left his aid.

_John_

My cane keeps moving about, usually about the time when I see Sherlock. It's starting to piss me off, it's probably Mary trying to bring me back down to earth. Im seeing less and less of her now, not that I care.

And the nightmares are coming back.


	4. Chapter 4

John's body defences were at an all-time low. Mary had stopped him going to work, because anyone with an illness that was catchable, would get John. He'd come home each night snivelling, his eyes sunken, skin grey.

I'd noticed now that Mary wouldn't let him out of the house. She didn't care whether I was dead or alive and the few times I'd seen her she'd told me to stay out of their lives.

And I considered it,

Until I heard the screams.

John was having his nightmares again, bringing him back to his army doctor days; friends dying around him. Except to these there was a new addition; Sherlock.

The one man he trusted more than anyone else. The one man that trusted him and fixed all his problems; mentally and physically.

Nightmares of Sherlock being torn to shreds by Jim Moriarty.

Sherlock being cut apart

But worst of all,

Sherlock not caring, and leaving him.

And that had come true. That day, when he watched his best friend reach towards him at the top of St. Barts.

It was Sherlock's fault, all this. He was doing something clever, but he chose to leave him. He had a choice, and he chose to not see John ever again, to let John live with the thoughts of how he could've saved him.

John

I saw Sherlock again today. He's almost becoming as real as everyone around me; to the point where I can't keep track on whose actually here and who isn't.

Greg came over the other day, asked me for some help on a case. Not likely.

I watched him leave through my window, and then I saw Sherlock again, out of the corner of my eye.

Greg looked as if he'd seen him too, he rushed towards him, only to stop and head more slowly in a different direction.

I shook my head, I knew it was too good to be true.

Sherlock.

I saw Lestrade today. He had his ideas about my death, and molly had told him a bit. So when he saw me I didn't expect him to act so out of character. As he started running towards me, I looked up and saw John staring out of the window. As he looked away, I shook my head at Lestrade, and he instantly turned and trotted away.

I probably shouldn't have done that but there was no way in hell that john was going to work it out like that.

I slowly revealed myself to all my acquaintances; Donovan, Dimmock, Mrs.H, Mycroft (although he knew all along, I did need his help).

I gave them the time and they all came over to 221B. Mary and John were out, and would be home in approximately 23.54 minutes, if my watch is correct (which it is, to the millisecond)

As I heard the lock in the door turn, I held my breath. This could go to plan or go horribly wrong.

John

As I stumbled up the steps, I heard creaking in 221B. Furious because there was trespassers, I ran upstairs and shoved the door open with a bang.

And he was there.

Sherlock.


	5. Chapter 5

_John_

Flesh and blood, as real as you and me, he was there.

That episode… in the restaurant… was real?

I couldn't believe it, almost didn't want to believe it, the minute I begin to get my sanity back, it crashes down, sinking like the titanic.

How was I supposed to react to this? I thought it through and realised that either way, when this story was re-told, it wouldn't please everyone, and it made me chuckle; my best friend was alive and I was considering how to respond to give the most interesting story to tell.

I slowly walked up to where he was standing; he was leaning on the door frame now, his arms folded. He was obviously getting tired of this game but was putting up with it for me. I kept approaching him, walking through the area that classed as his personal space. Continuing until I was pressed up against him, breathing the same air, heart beat in sync.

_Sherlock_

He got so close I couldn't identify where my body finished and his started. We didn't talk, because it was deemed unnecessary, all words just barriers that hide emotion. It should've been awkward, but it wasn't.

Not until we realised Mary was standing right behind us.

Surprisingly, she just dropped her bag on the floor, heaved a sigh, and as she flounced over to the chair she said 'Fucking finally, Sherlock, if you hurt him, I'll rip you to shreds'.

I took this as acceptance and I leaned forwards to brush my lips over John's.

When his breath hitched, I plunged forward, knocking him off his feet and pushing him into the wall.

He responded in kind, and before I knew it we'd managed to pull and push our way into the bedroom, leaving memories and Mary behind.

_John _

Last night was….

Well I won't bore you with the details, but…

Wow.


	6. Chapter 6

_John_

I didn't expect to wake up next to him.

Sherlock sleeps for a couple of hours a night when he isn't on a case, when he is he doesn't bother.

So when I woke up with a warm something snuggled around me; I'm not going to lie, I didn't automatically presume that it was Sherlock giving me morning cuddles.

_Sherlock_. _Cuddles_.

I don't think he doesn't sleep because he wants to be awake, I just think it's his body clock, its set to waste the minimal amount of time possible, just enough to keep him running. I suppose it's all been a bit of a mess recently, so maybe it's shut down for a few weeks; maybe the body clock's gone on holiday.

I can't believe how my life has turned out. Days. Days ago I was 100% sure Sherlock was dead and I was dying. Mentally and physically deteriorating.

Now not only is my best friend back, but he is also my lover. We're one. Combined.

I need a cup of tea.

_Shit._

Shitshitshitshitshit

_Sherlock_

I can hear john padding downstairs and then I hear a grunt of frustration which can only mean one thing.

Mycroft.

I leap down the stairs, three at a time, until I join John in the sitting room.

'MYCROFT!' I scream, unable to contain my anger. 'YOU COULDN'T GIVE US ONE WHOLE DAY. ONE DAY WITHOUT STICKING YOUR ABNORMALLY LARGE NOSE INTO OUR BUSINESS!'…

Mycroft only chuckled in response, shifting in his waistcoat and checking his pocket-watch.

'Hello, brother dear. John, greetings' he shakes hands with _my_ John.

'I've told Mummy John will be coming to Holmes Manor for Christmas Eve and dinner; we didn't do it last year, this year she insists. I'm taking Greg, don't worry.'

Greg.

GREG

_John _

So Sherlock managed to forget to tell me that his brother and Greg Lestrade were in a relationship.

HOW

I had no idea that Greg even swung that way, he certainly made a good job of hiding it that last time we all spent Christmas together.

I swear this makes me feel like my life is a lie.

…

'Sherlock, how did you manage to forget that?! And if your brother thinks I'm spending our first Christmas together with him and your ''Mummy'' he has another thing coming.'

'Oh John' he responded, his fingers placed calmly under his chin. 'It isn't our first Christmas together, is it? Plus it'll only be for a few days, she'll insist on it, so better agree now, and deal with the details later'

'Well it is our first Christmas… together, together. You know, like us instead of me and you…'

My mumbles were interrupted my Sherlock's lips crushing against mine, and all worries were put far, far away into my mind bungalow.

**_THE END _**

**_I hope you enjoyed this, ladies and gentlefolk._**

**_I feel like I can't go any further with this because it's about John's original hallucinations, and I sort of chucked that away a couple of chapters back. _**

**_I would really love any reviews/comments negative or positive on this one. _**

**_Thanks again, _**

**_YouLowerTheIQOfTheWholeStreet_**

**_mwahmwah_**


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